


Stubbornness and Pride

by prompreg



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Birth, Childbirth, Gen, Mpreg, Noct and Ignis are mentioned briefly, Pregnancy, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Male Pregnancy, Trans Pregnancy, graphic depiction of birth, hard labor, prompto is a badass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 21:10:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17567990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prompreg/pseuds/prompreg
Summary: There was very little about Gladio that was useful now. He couldn’t cook, couldn’t drive, couldn’t run for long distances, couldn’t exercise like he used to, couldn’t carry anything heavier than 25 pounds, couldn’t swing his sword (which was heavier than 25 pounds). He was still fit, of course, but nine months of pregnancy, and consequently nine months without testosterone, had softened him out considerably.--Please mind the tags. Finished fic crossposted from tumblr.





	Stubbornness and Pride

**Author's Note:**

> Pregnant (trans) Gladio is something I had wanted to do for a while and then when someone requested it I made sure to find the time to put something together! He takes to pregnancy like a giraffe takes to eating with a fork.

There was very little about Gladio that was useful now. He couldn’t cook, couldn’t drive, couldn’t run for long distances, couldn’t exercise like he used to, couldn’t carry anything heavier than 25 pounds, couldn’t swing his sword (which was heavier than 25 pounds). He was still fit, of course, but nine months of pregnancy, and consequently nine months without testosterone, had softened him out considerably.

It was hard to stomach, especially with their lifestyle being what it was. He couldn’t so much as set up the tent anymore without someone weaseling it out of his hands and telling him to sit down. He’d never felt so restless, especially watching a fight go on from the car as if they could afford to bench him.

When Noct was impaled by a Yojimbo’s sword when Gladio was in his fourth month, he put his foot down and traded in the broadsword for something a little slimmer to stave off the harshest of the protests.

It had worked well enough, at least, until month eight reared its head and Iris got involved. He could easily tune out Ignis’ 50th lecture, but Iris’ particular combination of pure worry and terrifying demeanor had finally gotten through.

It was still hard to watch his friends put themselves in danger, of course. Harder still knowing it was his duty to lay his life down for one of them. Each wound Noct returned with felt like a personal failure even more than it did before.

Month nine was the hardest. Nevermind that his feet hurt all the time, that his back ached from the added weight, that he couldn’t stomach even the smell of ramen because worse than all of those things was the restless energy that came from pure boredom.

“Lemme get that for ya, Big Guy,” Prompto said as he ducked under the arm Gladio had been reaching out to grab the bag he’d been reaching for.

“That’s not even 20 pounds,” Gladio groused, reaching for it again in annoyance. Prompto easily avoided the swipe of his arm, laughing as if it was a game.

“I don’t mind anyway, dude! Want some help to the caravan?”

“I can still walk,” Gladio protested, and shoved the blond away when he got too close, “go bug someone else.”

The chair was already set up for him, the single bed wordlessly given. Gladio sighed as he laid down and tucked a hand under his swollen stomach and willed it all to be over soon.

Miraculously, he held on past his 37 week goal despite all the stressors the doctor had warned him to keep an eye on.

The 37th week had felt like a pipedream with their lifestyle what it was. But it came and left, with weeks 38 and 39 not long behind.

If Gladio thought the rest of his pregnancy was bad, week 40 was on a tier all its own. He was so big it felt ridiculous and the desert heat was excruciating. He was allowed to move around more, but tired too easily to actually enjoy it. Worst of all, the guys were treating him like he was made of delicate porcelain and there was always at least one pair of eyes on him at all times. He knew his friends’ concern was born from a place of love, but it was damn annoying when he was already stressed out and restless.

“I’m going for a walk,” He announced, just days into the start of the week from hell after all three of the guys had annoyed him to the point of snapping at least twice.

“Is that wise?”

“Are you serious?”

“I’ll go with you!”

Gladio ignored the chaotic overlap of their voices and pinned Prompto with a pointed look when he practically knocked his chair over in his haste to scamper over.

“I’m going alone. I can still handle myself for half an hour.”

“Dude, what if you, y’know?” Prompto asked, helpfully gesturing at Gladio’s stomach. Gladio took a breath in through his nose and let it out audibly through his mouth.

“If a little walking is all it takes to finally get this kid out of me then I should have gone on a hike two weeks ago. Labor takes hours, Prompto. I’ll make it back even if it does start.” He held his phone up, already moving away from the caravan. “I’ll call if anything happens. Don’t follow me.”

They didn’t follow him, though every time Gladio looked over his shoulder Prompto was still watching him walk away like a puppy through a window. It was only once the caravan was completely out of sight that Gladio felt himself relax, as guilty as that made him feel.

The walk was nice, both for the exercise and the blissful silence. The heat was still unbearable, especially with the shirt sticking to his skin in the sweltering desert sun, but he relished in every moment to himself. At least he was able to rest without feeling someone’s worried eyes on him as he collapsed onto a random bench and pulled a water bottle from the armiger.

He was just finishing the water off when the commotion started; loud voices and then the unmistakable roar of a coeurl. He was on his feet and brandishing his sword before he’d even consciously decided what to do. The weight of the broadsword was familiar and yet foreign and he stumbled briefly with it before he remembered he was supposed to be using something thinner and lighter. Cursing quietly under his breath, he traded the broadsword out for the one-handed blade he’d adopted just as a frazzled teen barrelled into view, the coeurl hot on his heels.

“Fuck, help!” The teen didn’t have a weapon on him and Gladio widened his stance to account for the unevenly distributed weight in his abdomen and brandished his sword.

“Call for a hunter, kid, I’m gonna need a hand.”

The battle was harder than it had any right being but Gladio was 40 weeks pregnant, and he’d just used up a good chunk of his energy. As much practice as he’d had swinging a sword, even doing it pregnant for all those early months hadn’t prepared him for a one-on-one fight at 9 months. He was massive and maneuvering was impossible around his stomach, especially with how fast the coeurl moved. He could barely keep up with it, and took more hits than he was comfortable with.

In the end, when the kid was finally far enough away, Gladio was forced to pull one of Prompto’s revolvers from the armiger, line up a less than clean shot, and use the brief window without the beast on him to make a break for it.

Running wasn’t impossible, but his stomach slowed him down considerably. He wasn’t able to get very far before he was cornered again by the same beast, whose anger was now much more pointed now that it was missing one of its powerful whiskers.

Gladio cursed quietly under his breath and backed up as slowly as he could as he watched the mighty beast approach, slow and purposeful. It was just as the coeurl began to charge its remaining whisker, electricity building like a threat, that he finally noticed the mounting cramp in his abdomen as it gave way to a sudden rush of liquid between his legs.

The realization hit him like a brick wall, just as a loud gunshot tore his attention as quickly as the bullet that tore through the coeurl’s flank. As one, Gladio and the beast whipped around to the newcomer and Gladio felt his heart skip at the sight of Prompto, brandishing a smoking gun.

“I thought you were gonna call!” Prompto said as he fired off another shot. The coeurl lunged passed Gladio for Prompto and was rewarded with a third shot for its trouble.

“Iggy and Noct?” Gladio called back, hand snaking out to support his stomach as another cramp started up.

“Out looking for you! Some kid came running into town screaming about this guy so we split up for time.” Prompto popped off another shot, cursed when it missed, and dove away from a worrying swipe of the coeurl’s claws. All Gladio could do was watch, teeth gritted against the pain and inaction. He would just get in Prompto’s way now.

“On your 3--”

“I know, I know!”

Prompto moved like he was dancing, keeping up with the wounded coeurl’s quick movements much better than Gladio had. In no time at all, Prompto was firing off a final shot into the beast’s head and stepping back with a long breath.

“Yikes, that thing was scary,” Prompto said as he jogged over, adrenalin apparent in the pop of his step and the quick way he looked Gladio over. “You okay?”

“Scratches,” Gladio replied as Prompto pushed a potion into his hand.

“Down it, I’m calling the guys.”

Prompto had only just clicked on Ignis’ speed dial when they both heard a familiar growl, low and predatory, that clued them in to their real problem. Coeurls typically moved in packs, and apparently they’d just pissed one off.

“Prompto?” Ignis asked over the phone just as Prompto grabbed Gladio’s hand and ran.

“Have the big guy. Coeurls on our tail, at least three. ‘Find my friends’ us ASAP.” Prompto panted into the receiver before pocketing his phone and replacing it with his gun. Running was hardly a good option against coeurls, who thrilled over the chase, and they both knew it. But a single revolver against three coeurls was a similar suicide mission and they both knew that, too.

So run they did, as fast as Gladio’s legs and 9-months swollen stomach would allow. When he stumbled or lost speed, Prompto would whip around and unload a clip into the nearest coeurl until they got their bearings back. It almost seemed to be working, or at least letting them gain some amount of ground, but Gladio was running out of energy fast and the pains of early labor weren’t helping.

“Fuck, Prompto,” He growled as a bullet whipped just passed him, piercing a coeurl that had been boldly gunning for him. “Just run for help alone.”

“And leave you behind? As if, dude!”

“I’m slowing you down,” Gladio protested, feeling as useless and awful as ever. If he hadn’t insisted on going out alone, if he’d just sucked shit up a few more days, if he’d been a little more mindful 9 months ago, maybe he wouldn’t have his friends’ blood on his hands. Some shield he was, running from beasts and literally pulling a friend down with him.

“Fuck that!” Prompto snapped. It was so surprising and seemingly out of character it forced Gladio silent. “I’m not leaving you behind.” It was more than he deserved, but for once Gladio didn’t protest.

Ultimately, they were both forced to stop when the ground became more uneven, dotted with rocks and boulders that made running hazardous. Prompto fumbled with his gun for a moment, swapping the shells, and when Gladio realized what he was doing he closed his eyes before Prompto could even warn him to.

“Starshell!” Prompto called just before firing. The light of a starshell was blinding, so much so it was all Gladio could see behind his eyelids. There was a moment of disorientation before he was being tugged forward again, and Gladio stumbled with eyes only slightly open as the two of them fumbled toward the boulders together.

The coeurls were yowling in pain, most likely from the light, and as they moved forward Gladio noticed they were no longer being pursued.

“Gotta hide,” Prompto whispered to him as they ducked behind boulders, attempting to put as much distance between them and their pursuers as they could. A starshell wouldn’t keep them down for long and coeurls were fast.

There weren’t many places to hide, especially not with Gladio so big, but they found a large enough bolder and crouched behind it.

A particularly bad contraction forced Gladio to his knees with less grace than he had intended,and he had to stifle his noise of pain into the skin of his knuckle. Prompto pinned him with a concerned look that quickly gave way to mounting panic.

“Are you..?” He asked, wide eyes trailing down to his swollen stomach.

Gladio nodded his head, unable to trust his voice. He watched Prompto’s eyes as they flew to his face, somehow widening even more with mounting horror. A coeurl’s shriek drew them both up short and Gladio didn’t miss the way Prompto moved closer, as if he could somehow shield Gladio with his much smaller body. It was an admirable quality, further proof that Noct had chosen his guard wisely despite the crown’s initial doubts.

The faint buzz of a phone drew Gladio’s hand to his pocket.

Noct: ditching car too rocky

Noct: where tf r u guys???

Noct: fuck answer me we dont see u

Gladio: coeurls closing in

Gladio: draw their attention

The noise was faint and far away, but enough for the coeurl’s ears to catch. Gladio held his breath as the beast that had been approaching paused and didn’t release it until he could hear the noticeable sound of the coeurl’s paws as it ran the opposite way. It was only once he was sure they were out of earshot that he let slip a small noise of pain. Prompto was on him at once, wide eyes frightened but determined.

“How long has it been? Is it coming? Do you need to lie down? Can you make it back to the car?”

Gladio grit his teeth against another contraction and swatted at Prompto’s reaching hands.

“Slow down,” Gladio said when he could relax again, “I can probably make it.”

“Probably?” Prompto asked, voice too loud and pitched high with panic, and then placed his own hand over his mouth. “Sorry,” he added in a whisper, and when Gladio squeezed his eyes shut against a contraction he moved to the edge of the boulder and peered around it.

“We’ll have to go around,” he said as he rejoined Gladio, “It’s probably gonna take them a while to finish up and...”

“And I’m a liability. Yeah, I fucking know.” Gladio grit his teeth, placed a hand under his stomach and the other against the boulder, and lifted himself to his feet. Prompto was worrying beside him, lip caught between his teeth and wide eyes pinned to him, but Gladio ignored him as he caught his breath.

“I can walk,” he said when Prompto stepped just a little closer. “Just keep your eyes out for any stragglers.”

Moving was slow going, Gladio’s contractions strong enough that he had to stop frequently for breaks. The sounds of fighting were far away, but Gladio could see them in the distance and every little noise had him jerking his head over towards his friends. Prompto seemed similarly worried about them, but he kept his gun drawn and his eyes peeled as they moved, giving a wide berth around the perimeter of the fighting.

The sun was just starting to set, casting an ominous glow. The knowledge that demons would be out, even in a few hours, made moving a necessity.

But demons weren’t the only things to be wary of. They hadn’t made it very far before Prompto was jogging closer and halting Gladio with a hand, pointing out the wandering voretooth they’d been about to stumble across.

Gladio bit his lip to stiffle his noise of frustration as Prompto ushered him another way.

A voretooth pack was nothing to sneeze at, and the one they’d encountered was dispersed in the most annoying way. It seemed every time they’d moved around one another appeared, throwing off their pace and their path.

The sun dipped lower.

“How you holding up?” Prompto asked as they changed directions again, eyes still full of worry.

“Tired of fucking walking,” Gladio replied. In truth, he wasn’t doing so well. He was running on empty and his contractions were getting closer together and stronger. Moving at all wouldn’t be an option for much longer.

“If we get away from these boulders, maybe the guys can pick us up in the car,” Prompto offered, eyes peering around for some sort of obvious path they could take.

“Whatever we do, it’s gotta be fast. Sun’s sinking,” Gladio added, teeth worrying his lip in more than just pain.

“Hey, do you see that?” Prompto asked, squinting and straining at something in the distance. “That house-shape over there?”

Sure enough, there was something that seemed out of place. Gladio grunted an affirmative.

“Maybe it’s a hunter HQ or something!” Prompto said, increasing his pace and then slowing down. “We should check it out, maybe someone there has a car or something.”

“Better than nothing,” Gladio said, and changed course again.

The house-shape in the distance was not a hunter HQ, though it did look it from outside. Maybe it had been, once, but the inhabitants had clearly packed up shop and left. All they found inside was some abandoned furniture and maps, but shelter was shelter and Gladio was exhausted. He had to lean heavily against the wall the moment they made it inside and needed Prompto’s help to one of the chairs strewn across the room.

He practically collapsed into it, trying and failing to catch his breath.

Prompto, amazingly, still had enough energy to run through each room and then single-handedly push a desk in front of the door.

“Just in case,” he said as he stepped away from it, finally breathing heavily himself but recovering fast. “It’s not what we wanted but at least the voretooth and coeurls are gone.”

It was just like Prompto to look on the bright side even as things were collapsing around them.

“Not what we wanted?” Gladio asked, definitely not looking on the bright side, “the one good thing about this is that a HQ probably means a dirt road somewhere around here so it’s possible the car could get in. But the sun’s still setting and we still haven’t heard from Noct and I’m definitely still in labor.”

Prompto had his phone in his hand, fingers furiously tapping away.

“What?” He asked, clearly distracted. Gladio made a noise of frustration that quickly turned to pain as another contraction hit. They were so strong now he could hardly hold himself back, even with all his training in pain tolerance.

“Fuck, I don’t think I’m gonna make it,” Gladio said, breathing heavily as the contraction finally ended. The pressure between his legs was starting to get bad, his urge to push mounting. As much as he’d been trying to deny it, early labor was done.

“You’re not gonna die!” Prompto replied immediately, whipping his head up from his phone. “I told them where we are. We just have to sit tight and wait.”

“The baby’s not waiting,” Gladio replied. Another contraction hit at that moment as if to prove his point and Gladio had to squeeze the arm of the chair to ride through it. “Fuck, it’s coming.”

“It’s..?” Prompto’s wide eyes roved from his belly down to his lap. “Oh, fuck. Okay, okay. Don’t panic.” Prompto was clearly talking more to himself than Gladio as he paced the room, hand on his mouth.

“There was a couch upstairs! And… blankets in the armiger. Water…” Gladio couldn’t hear everything Prompto was mumbling to himself, but he did catch the way Prompto whipped around to face him.

“I’ll be right back, dude. Sit tight!” He said before disappearing. Gladio let him go, in far too much pain to even think of following.

He returned almost immediately, anxiety clear in the way he obviously couldn’t sit still.

“There’s a couch upstairs. It’s just one flight! I can help you up? And if you need to…” Prompto swallowed audibly, “If you need to push, it’s probably easier there, right?”

Gladio looked to the stairs in question and almost considered telling Prompto he wouldn’t make it up them, but the chair he was in was so far from comfortable and the desk in front of the door wouldn’t actually keep anything determined out for long. He took a deep breath to steel himself and stood.

They walked up the stairs together, Gladio stooping awkwardly to lean heavily against Prompto for support and stopping every few steps to catch his breath or ride out a contraction. By the time they were at the top, he felt about ready to collapse with the weight, the fatigue and the urge to drop into a squat and push.

“It’s coming, Prom, I gotta.. Fuck.” Prompto held him as steady as he could as Gladio dropped his weight on him through a particularly bad contraction and gasped as he felt something nudge the ring of his lips. He clutched Prompto’s arm in surprise, probably too tightly, and tried to steady himself on shaky legs.

“I have to push,” He said heart beating too fast with adrenaline. “Fuck, I can’t stop it.”

They didn’t make it to the couch. Gladio tried to brace himself as best he could but ended up practically dragging Prompto down with him as he fell into a squat, groaning loudly with effort as he finally pushed with a contraction. His pants weren’t even off but he couldn’t hold back any longer, and as the head slid the slightest bit through him he couldn’t hold back the loud noise of pain either.

When the contraction was finally over he stood still for a moment, Prompto barely holding him up, and breathed.

“Can you make it to the couch?” Prompto asked, voice slightly strained, and Gladio tried to stand as much as he could.

“Quick,” he breathed, and together they stumbled and dragged themselves over the final steps. As soon as they made it Gladio collapsed into it, weakly fumbling with the waistband of his pants.

“P-pants,” he stuttered and Prompto stooped down immediately, quickly taking over the awkward fumbling with the waistband.

Another contraction hit before they could get them off completely and Gladio desperately tried to help Prompto pull them off, the urge to push so strong it was impossible to ignore.

When they were finally off Gladio could have sobbed with relief as he spread his legs so wide one fell off the couch. It was too narrow to be particularly comfortable, but Prompto helped by easing one thigh over the back and holding open the other.

Gladio strained with effort as he pushed, practically holding his breath through the entire powerful contraction. When it was done he released, collapsing back against the couch until the next one.

Each contraction was powerful, and helped the baby along despite his lack of energy, but before long he was flagging; barely even able to catch his breath.

“You can do it,” Prompto encouraged, still spooked but holding up better than Gladio could have expected. “Guys texted, they’re on their way. And the head’s almost out, dude!”

Even if Gladio wanted to give up, he knew he couldn’t. He’d been training his whole life to keep going and push himself beyond his limits. So when it felt like he couldn’t keep going, he took a deep breath and gathered as much strength he could and put it all into a strong push, shouting with the effort of it.

The head popped free with a gush of liquid but Gladio continued, pushing as hard as he could until he felt the baby continue, turning of its own accord to free first one shoulder and then the other. Gladio was still shouting with effort as at last the infant slid free completely with a final rush of liquid. 

Completely exhausted, Gladio collapsed back against the couch, eyes closed as he focused solely on breathing. He was hardly aware of Prompto placing the baby on his chest, of the infant’s cries or the blanket that was draped over him as he finally, blissfully, was allowed to rest.


End file.
